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Tuesday, 21 February 2012

A HOLE Lotta Trouble !!!

This Blog
comes from the safety of the conservatory, I am trapped in here until the
pungent smell of gas has disappeared from the rest of my house and I can walk
around without feeling high.

Let me
take you back a few days.

Monday
morning began as normal but by lunchtime I had a hole…no wait, I need to think
of a better word than hole…..a void, a gorge, a cavity right outside my house.

The men
in yellow coats came some time ago you see and rather like an annoying case of
earache are still hanging around. Their purpose, to replace our gas pipes. It can’t
be the gas pipes I thought to myself, why would they be smoking whilst digging,
but what do I know!

Today I
have been informed that my gorgeous front garden will be undergoing a touch of
landscaping i.e. not 1 not 2 but 3 holes being dug in my lawn HOW ATTRACTIVE.
Any more holes and I will have my very own moat; I may even install a
drawbridge with turrets.

I have
watched with great interest how 4 grown men can while away so much time looking
down into a hole in the ground nodding like those little dogs you see in the
back of cars. Today was particularly fascinating when another clearly more
important man turned up with a clipboard (and we all know how important a clipboard
looks) and placed 12 cones around himself, his van and THE HOLE. He then put on
a pair of safety goggles, a hard hat and attached a torch to it. “OOO” I
thought “he’s going in, goodbye little man with clipboard”. To my utter amazement
he peered into the hole (for anyone with a somewhat mucky mind I said peered
not peeed), then nodded, wrote something on his clipboard, lit up a fag then tidied
up all the 12 cones and left. WHY? WHY? WHY?

Health
and Safety gone bonkers. Who actually sits and decides how many cones are
appropriate in these situations, who decides that its OK for pedestrians to
walk round these holes taking their own lives in their hands but not for a man
with a clipboard. I wonder what would happen if a mere mortal like me were to
step within the boundaries of the circle of cones, would I disappear forever or
catch the nodding disease of the men in yellow coats. We shall never know.

As much
as I moan about the before mentioned holes it got me thinking about all the
times in my life where I would have been very grateful for a hole opening up
beneath me and swallowing me . My earliest memory of this immense feeling was
when I was about 13 years old (you remember how that was don’t you CRINGE!!).
Well on this occasion it was my Northern Mother who introduced me to the
feeling of shame that you had actually come from her womb. It all stemmed from
her passing her driving test at the ripe old age of 33 and my Father buying her
a car, not any old car a baby blue, old, rusty VW Beetle which back in the 80’s
was anything but trendy. The car which she lovingly named Bertie was a whole
heap of….well you can fill in the blank! Every Monday morning she would offer
to drop me at the station as it was in her words “on my way”. The problem was
that as it hadn’t been used all weekend it would never bloody start, she would
then enlist the help of the Dustbin Men to push her down our very exclusive
road. As if the shame of this wasn’t bad enough they would let out a rather
loud “HOORAAYYY” as Bertie spluttered to life and roared of down the road
sounding like a tractor with The Northern Mother waving cheerfully out of the
windows. God Bless Her!!!

It was at
this stage I used to attempt to make a run for it, grabbing my bag and coat and
shoving a piece of toast in my mouth as I went. The problem was that in my
haste to get the toast she had driven back round the block and was now sounding
the horn wildly to let me know she was back and ready to go with the delightful
sounds of Barry Manilow blaring from the tape player.

I in turn
would do a type of Starsky and Hutch manoeuvre which involved checking for
onlookers then diving into the back seat and laying full length while we drove
off. My friends who would be by now waiting at the station cheered loudly as
The Northern Mother once again sounded the horn in appreciation. Oh the
shame!!! My friends thought she was immensely cool and I just wanted to find
out how I started adoption proceedings.

I
remember quite clearly with the opposite of fond memories her picking me up
from school one day, not as a surprise but because she needed to go to the
hospital which happened to be at the end of the school road. She had you see
managed to blow herself up on the cooker, as she stood before me with no eyebrows,
lashes, fringe and a bright red face that looked like she had been blow
torched, I wished for that hole again to open up. My Father who now lives in
Australia and I love dearly ( I must add he doesn’t live there because he
nearly killed my Mother) worked for the gas board had assured her that the
slight smell of gas that seeped from the oven was perfectly safe and could wait
until the weekend to be looked at. Unfortunately as she lit the pilot light
what she encountered was anything but safe as it exploded in her face and blew
her across the kitchen. To say she was slightly annoyed was a bit of an
understatement only made worse when she finally reached my Father who was
playing golf and carefully reminded her that she was still alive and that he
would definitely take a look at it once he had finished this round of golf.
Whoops bad move Daddy!!

Fortunately
for me Bertie the beetle came to a rather untimely end when the next day due to
the large sunglasses my Mother was wearing to hide her singed hair and eyes
didn’t notice a lorry pulling out and reversed in to him. As you may or may not
know the engine is in the boot where a Beetle is concerned. So that was that
Goodbye Bertie and Good riddance.

Mum was fine by the way, which was more than
my dad was once he had got home.

I guess
that there are times in everyone’s lives where that old saying “I just wish the
earth would of opened up and swallowed me” are used. At least I can look back
and laugh at these moments with fondness.

Which is
nothing to how much my Mother laughs at The Teenager now being totally
embarrassed of me and The Husband?